


Gloves

by wanderamaranth



Category: Alice in Wonderland (2010)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gloves, Sexual Content, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderamaranth/pseuds/wanderamaranth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice is distracted by the Hatter's gloves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gloves

_He was still wearing his gloves._

  
Alice didn’t know why that in particular strained her admittedly tattered bits of propriety to near the breaking point. She hadn’t been shocked when he’d pushed her against the wall, nor yet when he’d abruptly rucked her skirts up. Nor yet again when he’d fumbled, one-handedly, for those multitudes of buttons that ran up each side on the front of his breeches.

  
She was surprised a bit when, these fumblings done, he’d thrust into her most private of places, without even so much as a by-your-leave, but surprised is not the same as shocked. Pain had radiated from her center outward, yes, but she had neither denied him nor tried to stop him. Her mind had been wrapped in a fog of disbelief, that this should occur, with _him_ , like _this_ \--

  
It was when his hands left where they had been, one gripping her waist and the other a handful of her skirt, that the shock came. The Hatter grasped each one of her own hands (which had been unwittingly taken purchase, fingers clawed, into his shoulders) and pushed them against the wall, so that they were level with their faces. His grip was warm and secure and so tight against her own that she wondered briefly if her fingers would be broken.

  
He’d placed his forehead into the crook of her neck, the curls tickling it most insistently. Then, with his face down and their hands held such, he withdrew from her body so that just the tip of him was still inside her, and he thrust back again--all of this being done in almost complete silence.

  
Turning her head, she saw their hands, his fingers interwound with her own. As he continued his achingly slow lovemaking (for Alice realized that this must be what it was; what else could it be?) she saw that he was squeezing her hand in time with his movements. He’d withdraw, and the grip would loosen--and when he pushed back in, he’d grasp her fingers tight once again, as if doing so was the only thing holding their bodies together. It was beautiful in its simplicity, this tender-yet-fierce hold he had on her, but--

  
 _He was still wearing his gloves._

  
The finger-sleeves had been cut off of them long ago, but the faded brown and green plaid still stretched across the back of his hands, covering his knuckles and the long narrow bones that led to his wrist. It seemed to mock her, this bit of fabric, and so Alice stared at it, wondering why that should be her concern, when…

  
He moaned, the smallest of exhalations, but for Alice it was as if a cannon went off beside her ear. She jumped, entire body tensing, and the Hatter shuddered against her. Teeth scraped lightly against her skin, right where the back of her ear met her neck. All thoughts left with that motion, and she was no longer considering how she should be fretting over her lost virtue, or how the relationship she held in highest regard (with he, her best friend) would be altered forever.

  
Even the gloves, with their not being as lacking as she seemed to think they should be, briefly left her mind, as Alice focused on the altogether pleasurable feelings that were being elicited from her body, despite the pain she still felt from his abrupt entry.

  
He finished then, and they both leaned against the other for several moments, breathing heavily. He was still placed inside of her when he came back to himself, and she felt his body go very still against hers.

  
“Alice?” he’d asked, and she didn’t believe she had ever heard him sounding more frightened.

“Hatter.” she acknowledged.

The absurdity of the situation had not escaped her notice, but she was too worried for him in that moment to even consider giggling. Removing his head from where it was nestled against her shoulder, he pulled back enough to look into her eyes. Snatching his hands away from her suddenly (as Alice left hers where they had been, against the wall by her head, as she was too stunned by the flurry of movement, when everything else had been going apace with a dream-like fluidity), he scrabbled at his own hands. His movements were so eager that he was hardly able to achieve his objective, as both hands were attempting to free their counterpart at the exact same moment. Finally he succeeded, and both hands were devoid of those gloves that troubled Alice so. He cupped her face in his then bare hands.

  
Alice closed her eyes and sighed at the sensation of his skin against her own. That, right then, made it alright. They would be alright. Their relationship had changed, yes, but it would be fine.

  
“You’re fine,” she said, a bit hoarsely. She rubbed her cheek against one of his palms, and felt a burn welt at the fleshy base by his thumb and a cut on the opposite side, closest his pinky finger. It was a damaged hand, but one used to crafting and creating. It felt right, then, that these hands would help her craft a new belief of she and he, and what they could be to each other.

  
Opening her eyes, she reached up to push his hair away from his brows, where it had fallen into a wild disarray, covering his own eyes. Using her thumbs, she smoothed down his eyebrows, and then cupped his face carefully. “You’re fine,” she repeated, and continued with, in a softer tone, “I’m fine. We are both fine.”

  
His green gaze filled with tears then, as he finally pulled away from her. Looking down at himself, he shuddered a bit and quickly set about putting himself to rights, avoiding her eyes. He then went to Alice, smoothing and straightening her skirt. Only when he was finished did he look at her again.

  
“We’re…fine?” he asked, still fear in his voice.

  
She nodded. “You took your gloves off,” she said, as if that answered everything.

  
The Hatter fell then, knees crumpling his body to the ground, in relief or exhaustion, Alice could not say. The tears began to fall as Alice settled beside him, and she placed her arms around him. She held him while he cried, as he did it for the both of them, where Alice herself could not.


End file.
